CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Red Haze

  Marcus

  Marcus gritted his teeth and clamped his fingers tightly around the sides of Kate’s moped, the thin metal groaning faintly under his grip. Every turn felt like a near-death experience as she danced through the city streets at breakneck speed. He shifted his weight constantly, trying to balance himself without crushing the metal. The last thing they needed was for him to accidentally rip the thing apart.

  “Could you not kill us before we get there?” he snapped, his voice barely carrying over the roar of the wind.

  “Working on it!” Kate shot back, her focus razor-sharp as she narrowly avoided clipping a parked car.

  Buildings and streetlights blurred past in a streak of glowing signs and shifting shadows, the chaos of the city amplified by their reckless speed. Marcus winced as they blew through another intersection, a car horn blaring angrily behind them. The wind hit him hard, tugging at his jacket until it flapped wildly against his sides. He pressed his sneakers against the sides and braced himself as Kate took another sharp corner, the moped skidding slightly. Marcus squinted, his stomach twisting as he caught sight of it: a massive, glowing red Sphere, its unnatural glow radiating from the heart of the chaos.

  “Almost there!” though her voice barely rose above the roar of the engine and the rush of wind.

  Marcus could see the chaos now—flashes of red and blue lights reflected off cracked windows and abandoned cars. Smoke billowed in thick, dark plumes, illuminated by the glow of fires raging both inside and outside the Sphere’s border. Flames licked hungrily at several buildings outside the Sphere, though firefighters seemed to have that part under control. Inside the Sphere, however, it was a different story.

  As they rounded the last corner, the full extent of the scene came into view.

  Police cars formed a perimeter just outside the Sphere’s edge, their flashing lights barely cutting through the oppressive red haze. Firefighters and paramedics swarmed the area, pulling the injured from smoking wreckage. Inside the Sphere, several apartment buildings burned unchecked, the fire twisting unnaturally, almost alive. One building leaned dangerously to the side, its upper floors partially collapsed. A burned-out fuel truck jutted from the side of another structure, its twisted remains still smoldering.

  “It’s like a war-zone,” Kate muttered as she brought the moped to a shaky stop, her wide eyes taking in the devastation.

  Marcus dismounted, his eyes scanning the chaos. Flashes of fire danced through the Sphere’s translucent barrier, illuminating firefighters dragging injured civilians out of the collapsing buildings. Through the growing crowd of onlookers and emergency workers, Marcus caught glimpses of paramedics rushing back and forth with stretchers, as well as people in armor rushing into the Sphere itself.

  He pushed forward, weaving through the throng. People stumbled out of his way, some muttering protests until their eyes fell on the Marks etched into his face. The annoyed looks quickly turned to wary stares. Kate trailed behind him, breathless as she struggled to keep up.

  “Do you see the old man?” Kate asked, her voice tight with urgency. Marcus didn’t respond, his focus locked ahead as he moved through the throng of people. Kate muttered a frustrated curse under her breath and began elbowing her way closer to him, shoving past those too slow to step aside. When she reached him, she grabbed his jacket with both hands, letting herself be dragged as he plowed forward.

  “Do you see Pete?” she pressed, her tone growing sharper.

  “No,” Marcus muttered without slowing down.

  He reached the barricade, his gaze sweeping along its edge. The air buzzed with overlapping voices—cries, shouts, and the sharp bark of orders from police officers struggling to keep the crowd back. Reporters shoved microphones and cameras forward, snapping shots of the armored Breachers slipping past the perimeter and into the Sphere’s ominous red glow.

  Marcus’s eyes lingered on the Breachers briefly, recognition flickering as he spotted a familiar emblem on several of their armors. His jaw tightened. It was his sister’s guild. ‘Of course, they’d send her people here. Their guild’s located practically next door,’ he thought as his gaze narrowed. ‘There’s no way this isn’t going to blow up in my face later.’

  He was about to move to the left to continue his search when Kate yanked his wrist, pulling him back sharply. The force of it made him stop and turn to face her. Her dark eyes, wide with fear, locked onto his, the firelight and the Sphere’s glow reflecting in their glossy depths. The faint redness of her eyes made her terror even more vivid.

  “It’s red…” she stammered, her voice trembling. “Can… can you even survive that?”

  Marcus looked at the Sphere, the oppressive light throbbing faintly as if it had a pulse of its own. His fingers flexed at his sides, but his shoulders didn’t lose their steady set. He shook his head. “No. I’d die.”

  Kate’s breath hitched, and for a second, it looked like she might bolt. He softened his expression, forcing some reassurance into his voice. “Those Breachers are going to clear it. I only have to find a single kid.”

  He spotted Pete near the barricades, clutching a sobbing woman in his arms. Her shoulders heaved as she sobbed into his chest, her fingers clawing at his clothes like she might fall apart if she let go. Pete looked pale, his face drawn with exhaustion and fear. His gaze flicked between the burning buildings and the Sphere as though he couldn’t decide which terrified him more. Beside him, a police officer leaned close, speaking in a low, measured tone in an attempt to calm his daughter-in-law down.

  Marcus cut through the crowd, ignoring the looks and muttered protests of those he brushed past.

  Pete’s head snapped up as Marcus approached, his eyes widening in relief.

  “You came!” Pete’s voice cracked, the tension in his shoulders sagging slightly. “I called everyone I know… I just—Tim was staying at a friend’s house. I don’t even know what you—”

  “We don’t have time for this, old man,” Marcus interrupted, his tone curt as he focused on the burning buildings within the Sphere. “What building is he in?”

  Pete’s trembling hand shot up, pointing to the nearest collapsed building by the fuel truck. Its jagged edges and warped frame glinted faintly in the oppressive red light. “Fourth floor,” he said, his voice shaking. “I don’t know—”

  “What number?” Marcus cut him off again, stepping closer.

  Pete blinked, the question not registering immediately. “Number?”

  Marcus clamped a firm hand on Pete’s shoulder, steadying him. “I need to know the number of the apartment.”

  “34-B,” Pete choked out at last, his words tumbling out in a rush.

  The woman in Pete’s arms turned toward Marcus, her tear-streaked face twisted with fear and desperate hope for her child. She began speaking, her words a frantic, jumbled mess, but Marcus didn’t stop to listen.

  He turned sharply and headed straight for the barricade, already grabbing his phone from his pocket. Without missing a step, he called a number and shoved the phone into Kate’s hands. “Keep calling until Bastion picks up. Tell him I need him, full gear.”

  Kate’s grip tightened on the phone as she stared after him, her mouth opening as if to argue. Before she could get a word out, Marcus snapped, “Keep calling!”

  A police officer stepped toward him, one hand raised in warning. “Hey, you can’t—”

  Marcus shot forward before the officer could react. He cleared the barricade in a single bound, ducking smoothly under the officer’s outstretched arm as the man stumbled forward, startled. By the time the officer turned, Marcus was already sprinting toward the Sphere.

  Ignoring the commotion behind him, Marcus wove through the emergency vehicles. He shot past paramedics loading stretchers and firefighters pulling hoses, his steps splashing through puddles by the fire trucks. Reaching the nearest truck, he grabbed his jacket, dunking it into the nearest water puddle, drenching it before throwing it back on.

  He didn’t stop. With a single leap, he landed on top of the fire truck, his boots thudding against the metal roof. Shouts erupted below as people tried to get his attention, but Marcus barely registered them.

  ‘Focus on the kid, screw the rest.’ His legs pumped hard as he ran along the length of the truck.

  At the end of the truck, he jumped again, clearing a group of firefighters who shouted in alarm as he sailed over them. He hit the ground in a roll, the impact jarring but manageable, and came up running. His pace didn’t falter as he zeroed in on the Sphere, the glowing, red haze growing larger with every step.

  Sliding to a stop before the gel-like barrier, he straightened, catching his breath as chaos swirled behind him. People shouted, footsteps pounded, and more police and emergency workers rushed toward him, but Marcus didn’t stop.

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  He stepped into the Sphere.

  The transition was slow, the gel-like surface parting around him as though it were alive. Inside, the sounds of the outside world faded, replaced by something far more sinister. Screams echoed faintly through the oppressive red haze, mingling with bursts of gunfire and the distant rumble of explosions. Marcus could hear combat close by—shouts, steel clashing, and the roar of unnatural creatures—but he blocked it all out.

  Up ahead, figures moved through the haze—Breachers locked in battle. Marcus ignored them, his focus narrowing to the partially collapsed apartment complex, its structure listing dangerously to one side.

  Marcus rushed toward the building, each step hammering against the cracked pavement. The air grew hotter as he approached, the oppressive glow of the Sphere throwing harsh shadows across the scene. His path to the front entrance was blocked by debris and the twisted remains of a burning truck, its flames roaring upward and casting wild flickers of light. Without slowing, he turned sharply, spotting a second-floor balcony just within reach.

  He jumped, hands catching the railing as he hauled himself over in one smooth motion. A second later, he kicked the balcony door in. Acrid smoke rushed out to meet him, thick and suffocating, burning his throat and stinging his eyes. He coughed, pulling his soaked jacket up over his nose and mouth as he forced himself forward. The smoke clung to him, curling around his body like a choking fog, obscuring everything beyond a few paces.

  He barreled through the small living area, skidding slightly as he reached the front door. He slammed into it with his shoulder, the weakened frame giving way under the impact. Oppressive heat and even thicker smoke hit him as he stepped into the hallway, its walls scorched black and streaked with soot. The floor creaked under his boots, unstable and treacherous. Marcus used the wall for balance, his fingers brushing against the warped, warm metal of the railing as he moved.

  From the corner of his eye, something flickered across the wall to his right—too fast and indistinct to register clearly. Marcus froze mid-step, his heart thudding as his instincts screamed at him to turn back. Tension rippled through his body, his breathing shallow as his grip tightened on the railing.

  ‘Do I fight it?’

  For a brief moment, he considered retreating. His gut told him he was being hunted. But stubbornness burned brighter than fear. He shoved the thought aside, forcing himself to move again. ‘It can’t track my scent through all this smoke?’ Whether he believed it or not didn’t matter—he wasn’t leaving without the kid.

  He slowed his pace, his steps more deliberate now. The thick haze distorted everything around him, swallowing his world and playing tricks on his vision. He squinted against the stinging in his eyes, his jaw clenched as he pushed through the suffocating air.

  ‘I could’ve used Specter’s eyes right now,’ he thought bitterly, wishing he had an entire army of robots at his side. His hand swept along the walls as he climbed until he reached the fourth floor. Marcus’s boots scraped against the warped flooring as he scanned the blackened doors. His eyes locked onto the number—34-B. He kicked it in. The door shattered inward with a loud crack, splintered wood scattering as more smoke greeted him.

  Marcus stepped inside, his body tense, every nerve firing. His eyes darted around the dim space, searching for movement. The oppressive heat bore down on him as he scanned the smoke-filled apartment. ‘Please don’t be dead, kid.’ His jaw tightened as he moved further in, bracing for whatever came next.

  Marcus stumbled through the rooms, his breaths shallow and controlled, trying to keep the acrid air from searing his lungs. His soaked jacket offered little relief as the heat smothered him, each breath growing heavier. He held out one hand and activated his Gale ability, sending a small burst of wind rippling outward. The thick smoke parted for a moment, revealing furniture and debris scattered across the floor. The brief clarity allowed him to scan the room for bodies before the smoke swallowed everything once more.

  He moved quickly, checking the small bedrooms one by one. His booted foot shoved a door open, and he stepped inside, coughing against the oppressive heat. He flipped the mattress off one bed, checking underneath for the boy. Nothing. He ripped open a closet door—just finding clothes and toys.

  ‘Where the hell is he? Pete said the boy was staying at a friend’s house,’ Marcus thought, his jaw clenching. ‘Did they make it out on their own? Did I screw and go into the wrong apartment?’ He sent out another pulse of wind, clearing the air just long enough to see scorch marks running along the walls and a shattered window letting faint red light spill in. He turned back into the hallway, shoulders tense as he moved toward the next section.

  That’s when he spotted it—water trickling under a door further down. His heart thudded, and he broke into a sprint, his boots thudding against the floor. He reached the door and pushed—it resisted before creaking open.

  Stepping into the bathroom, Marcus’s eyes widened. Three figures lay sprawled on the floor—two smaller bodies and an adult woman. Water covered the tiled floor, pooling around their legs, and wet towels were rolled up and pressed firmly against the bottom of the door. He stared at the setup for a moment before a thought flickered in his mind.

  “Smart,” he muttered, kicking the door shut behind him and shoving the towels back into place to keep the smoke out. He crouched next to the trio, his fingers brushing against the young boy’s forehead. The boy’s skin was clammy, his breathing shallow. The three were pale, sweating, and completely unresponsive.

  “Mana sickness,” Marcus muttered, his expression darkening. He grabbed one of the soaked towels and quickly wrapped it around the boy, securing it tightly to keep him cool. Lifting the child into his arms, he cradled him close against his chest. “Hold on, Tim,” he said quietly, his voice rough but steady.

  He glanced back at the unconscious woman and child he was leaving behind. A wave of guilt churned in his stomach, making his muscles tighten as he hesitated. He knew he couldn’t carry all three of them—not through the Sphere, not with the monsters out there. The thought of leaving them here made him feel sick, but he pushed it aside. “I’ll be back,” he whispered, the promise ringing hollow in his ears as he turned and stepped out, shutting the door behind him.

  Marcus kicked open the balcony door and stepped outside. He glanced downward, his mind racing. A fall from the fourth floor wouldn’t kill him—but with the boy in his arms, it wasn’t an option. Gritting his teeth, he climbed over the railing and looked down at the balcony below.

  He dropped down, landing hard on the ledge. The impact jarred his knees, and he wobbled, his free arm snapping out to steady himself. “Crap,” he hissed, catching himself just before tipping over the edge. Without pausing, he repeated the process, lowering himself to the second-floor balcony. This time, the drop left him on shaky footing, but he didn’t falter. With no time to waste, he leaped from the second floor to the ground, absorbing the impact in a deep squat, still cradling the boy.

  “Just a few more seconds, buddy,” Marcus murmured, rising and breaking into a sprint. He darted away from the building, the roar of fire and sounds of combat closing in around him. His boots pounded against the cracked pavement as he pushed himself forward, his focus locked on the Sphere’s edge ahead. Every second mattered—the boy had to get out of the Sphere before it was too late.

  Ignoring the chaos around him, Marcus pushed forward, his boots pounding against the ground as he held the boy close to him. Each breath seared his irritated throat and lungs. The barrier came closer, its distortion a grim reminder of the danger he was running from—and toward. He glanced around as he ran, noticing the world inside the Sphere warping right in front of his eyes. Concrete crumbled into fine sand, chunks of pavement dissolving into powder that swirled faintly in the air. Wood beams sagged, melting like candle wax and pooling along the ground in viscous lumps.

  The sight twisted his stomach. This wasn’t like the blue Spheres he’d been inside before. Those were dangerous, sure, but this? This was something else entirely. The way the environment changed, breaking down and mutating everything within—it was off the charts. ‘I’ve never seen it happen this fast,’ Marcus thought grimly, his eyes darting to the boy in his arms. ‘We can’t stay here much longer.’

  Then he saw it.

  The ground ahead exploded in a burst of rubble and dust as something clawed its way to the surface. Marcus skidded to a halt, his boots scraping against the warped asphalt. His chest tightened as he stared at the thing blocking his path. It was massive, a nightmare hybrid of thick, dark carapace and grotesquely long limbs that ended in insect-like claws. The limbs twitched and flexed, tearing gouges into the ground beneath it. At its center, a gaping, worm-like mouth pulsated with rows of jagged teeth, wet and glistening. The creature had no eyes—just a head that swiveled unnaturally, sensing its surroundings with sharp, jerky movements.

  Marcus’s legs felt like lead. He shifted the boy’s weight in his arms, his thoughts racing. The kid felt heavier—more than just physically. He stepped slowly to the side, hoping to edge around the monster unnoticed while his heart thundered in his chest.

  The creature didn’t give him the chance.

  It shot forward, its speed far beyond anything Marcus had ever encountered. He barely had time to throw himself into a roll, clutching the boy protectively, as the monster slammed into the space he’d just occupied. The impact sent chunks of pavement flying, and the creature’s claws ripped through a nearby building, shredding parts of it. Marcus came up on one knee, coughing and scrambling to his feet. His muscles burned, but he didn’t hesitate. He bolted for the barrier, Mana burned through his system as he pushed himself to his limit.

  Behind him, the ground tore apart again as the creature pursued him, its claws gouging deep furrows into the earth. It didn’t need eyes to track him—its sense of smell and sound were more than enough. Marcus risked a glance over his shoulder and saw the thing gaining on him, its movements terrifyingly fluid despite its monstrous size.

  Gritting his teeth, Marcus extended his free hand and activated his Gale ability. A pulse of wind erupted from his palm, launching him to the side just as the creature lunged. He hit the ground hard, sliding across the broken pavement with the boy securely in his arms. The monster missed him by inches, slamming into the barrier with a deafening crash. Marcus looked up, his chest heaving as he caught sight of the creature shaking its head, disoriented. It let out a guttural roar that sent a shiver down his spine, then lifted its head, sniffing the air. Its head turned toward him again.

  Marcus braced himself, ready to dodge, but before the creature could move, a steel hand gripped its neck from behind, pulling it back. The creature shrieked and thrashed, its sharp limbs lashing out in a frenzy. The momentum carried it into the barrier, where it came to a sudden halt as the gel-like surface absorbed most of its kinetic energy. Marcus’s eyes widened as he spotted Bastion on the other side of the barrier, gripping the monster’s neck with one hand and slowly pulling its head through. The second the head was through, the robot began smashing its shield against the creature’s skull.

  Marcus didn’t wait to see the rest. He scrambled to his feet and bolted for the barrier, staying out of the monster’s reach as it thrashed wildly. The gelatinous surface of the Sphere rippled as he pushed through, the resistance making each step feel sluggish. He emerged on the other side just as Bastion gave one final, devastating shield bash to the creature’s neck, ripping it clean off. The robot tossed the severed head to the ground and crushed it underfoot with a single, deliberate stomp.

  “Pete!” Marcus roared, his voice raw, louder than he thought himself capable of. The sound of his shout cut through the chaos, drawing attention immediately. A split second later, Bastion’s voice echoed, calling for help. Paramedics and firefighters rushed toward them, their expressions a mix of alarm and shock.

  Marcus dropped to his knees, placing the boy gently on the ground. He pulled the towel away, his hands trembling slightly as he checked the kid for injuries. Relief washed over him when he saw nothing worse than a few scrapes and bruises. “Mana sickness and smoke inhalation,” Marcus rasped, barely managing to choke out the words before a violent cough overtook him.

  Bastion stepped beside him, steady as ever. The robot reached out, its steel hand gripping Marcus’s shoulder. For a split second, Marcus felt their connection flare to life—a brief but intense exchange of data and memories. The robot then pulled back, its head snapping toward the Sphere.

  “Let’s go,” Marcus said hoarsely, forcing himself to his feet. Bastion didn’t need further instruction. It grabbed its shield and axe before handing Marcus a spare knife. Together, they turned toward the glowing red Sphere again.

  The last thing Marcus heard before the Sphere swallowed them again was someone screaming his name.